


Angst Nico Drabbles

by hystericalselcouth



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3756406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hystericalselcouth/pseuds/hystericalselcouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That's really what it is, angsty Nico drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything, I make no profits.

Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, King of Ghosts, found himself with his back on the ground, breathing heavily and glaring threateningly up at the huge creature which loomed above hi. It wasn’t huge or gigantic. It was monstrously titanic. He rolled over as the figure stabbed blindly at him with a gleaming spear, but Nico was panting all the same. Slowly, the world tipped, his head reeled and he found himself falling sideways. Nico cursed himself for not eating enough and attempted to stand up. His vision slowly blurred further, the sun gleaming through the branches of the tall trees of the forest. He pushed himself towards the figure, realising what his only door of escape was. However, he was too slow. He found a sharp pain spread through his abdomen. He blinked hard and lifted his hands where he could see them. Blood. He hadn’t event realised he was clutching his side. He steadied himself and channelled all his energy in moving towards the figure’s large and dark shadow. The afternoon sun hurt his eyes. He found a particularly dark patch, noticing that the creature had seemed to have lost interest in it’s now considerably weakened prey. Nico do Angelo closed his eyes, breathed in and disappeared into the shadows.

Annabeth and Percy were lounging in the letter’s room in the infirmary wing. Hands-locked, lip-locked. They slowly pulled away slightly embarrassed with themselves. 

“You know, there’s a siege on now. What would our parents say?” Annabeth sked with reddened cheeks.

“Start a war for us…..”Percy replied, ticking an eyebrow up and sedating Annabeth with a romantic gaze.

“Well, we are in a war and you’re supposed to be recovering and I have to go now…..”

“We’re old enough, you know, we shouldn’t feel so guilty, it’s just a kiss,” Percy replied as he pulled Annabeth gently towards him, before continuing, “or two….”

Just then, he felt a wet, moist lump land in his lap. Annabeth gasped audibly.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, OHMYGAWD!”

“What the-”

“Percy, breathe, is that, oh holy heavens, there’s blood, he, ….is he unconscious? Percy, turn him over!”

“Okay, okay, erm-” 

Percy gently rolled over the limp body. Annabeth gasped for a second time, wide-eyed.

“What..the…my…………..room…..”

“Calm down, you’re okay, okay?”

“Nico?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just find Will yelling in doctor mode hilarious! Had to do this one. For some reason, my head seemed to be convinced that Leo and Nico get along pretty well.

Will rushed past the giant pine and towards the stopping, dark figure emerging from the trees. The sun was blazing, sweat poured down his face. He forced his legs to keep moving in the stifling heat, but they needed no encouragement when the pale, trembling form of Nico di Angelo came into view. Will could hear Rachel call from behind him.

“Will! Is it him? Is he back in one piece?”

“She sounds like she’s in some weird period drama,” mumbled Will as he caught the collapsing son of Hades and rested him against the closest tree.

“I like it, though. And hey, period drama? I was in one of them,” came the fragile, but confident reply.

“You just shut up, okay? YES! BRING IN A STRETCHER!”

“For the sake of-”

Nico bent of mid-sentence and retched.

Will only rolled his eyes and tusked. However, he grew worried when Nico stayed in the position. He crawled closer and pushed him upright, only to welcome the sight of Nico’s half-closed eyelids and ragged breath entering and leaving his cracked lips.

“Good Gods, how far did you shadow travel this time?”

“Not the farthest I’ve ever-” Nico broke into a fit of coughing.

“Not good, not good, okay, just stay - oh.”

Will Solace found for the umpteenth time, Nico di Angelo, the boy he loved, unconscious in his arms. As a fellow child of Apollo helped him load di Angelo onto the stretcher, he muttered, “He’s spoilt, you know. We do this far, far too often.”

* * *

“YOU DID WHAT?!?!”

Leo winced as he pulled his ear away from the door. Some silence ensued before – 

“THE WHOLE WAY? YOU EFFING SHADOW-TRAVELLED THE -”

Leo chose that moment to make his grand entrance and pushed the door open, hands carrying a tray of food.

“AND WHAT THE EFF DO YOU WANT?”

Leo fidgeted before the red-faced son of Apollo, before saying, “Got some risotto for ma Italian homiess,” looking past Will to find the pale Nico, rested against multiple pillows, who put his hand up in the air in thanks. Leo nodded his welcome and moved around the bed to sit by nico’s side, resting the food-laden tray on a pillow.

Will now had an eyebrow raised in incredulity.

“What?” Leo’s muffled voice asked, “You ain’t Italian!”

Rolling his eyes, Will stomped out of the room.

“Geez, he gives you a hard time, huh?”

“Yeah, you have no idea. Is Calypso this bad?” Nico asked as he tucked into his breakfast.

“Well, what can I say,” Leo replied with a hint of pick in his cheeks, “at least her cooking is more than enough compensation!”

“Hmmm…this is really good…beats Will’s any day. Dear God,” Nico said suddenly, “don’t you dare tell him that!”


	3. Irokh-ae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing has changed, and I'm different from when I wrote this. So if I do continue to update, it won't be much of the same.  
> Same trigger warnings apply, though. Stay safe.

They don't talk anymore. For months, words have dwindled with the winter sun, too-long sleeves muffling screams and cries while they slept. Nico will braid Will's greasy hair and tell him that its okay. He will pick him up and dress him as the son of Apollo, hold his eyes open and whisper in his ears that summer will come again.

Most days, all Will says is "Is it okay to be nothing?" and Nico will see him walk to the infirmary till night-fall.

Nico remembers when he was like this - when days and nights were unending and time undistinguished. Some days, he would think of dying and on others he would think he was dead, before Will called him out from his mind or the underworld. Nico would often think they were one.

 

In the dark Will now asks, "What makes us real?" and Nico will think - because we are here - but doesn't say it. Will may not believe him anymore. So, he intersperses their fingers and settles Will against him, feeling his naked chest rising and falling with his own.

Will's sleeves are stained yellow with dirt from months of un-washing. You only see the real colour of cloth when you stretch it to lay bare grooves of back-stitched acrylic. It doesn't feel wholly unfamiliar. 


End file.
